After the Fall
by FromMyFingertips
Summary: After faking his own death Sherlock must now find a way to reenter into society. He call's up the one person who will give him refuge. He soon finds himself feeling things he hasn't felt in years and is thrust into a situation even he can't figure out.
1. Shame

2 am phone calls are never welcome in my home hell I don't know who in their right mind would call someone at such an early hour, then again the person on the other line wasn't exactly right minded. It was very unexpected and all I could do was listen to him ramble on about how he had to fake his own death. Clearly not right in the head, but he was my friend. Well he wouldn't define us that way. I stood there staring out the window awaiting his arrival and wondering to myself "Why me?" Then I remembered it was more than likely that he simply didn't have any friends. I took the last sip of my tea and tossed it into the sink causing it to clink loudly against the metal side loud enough to drown out the sound of a car door slamming. I looked up and noticed the taxi backing out of the driveway and then came the loudest knock I had ever heard. I brushed myself off wanting to look somewhat decent and walked towards the door opening slowly.

"Sherlock." I said with a smile not having seen him since I was 16 years old.

He pushed his way in which was very like him. Most people would think him rude, but we had grown up together and I knew his every whim. "Cassandra." He said in his deep voice. "Of course who else would it be? Why were you expecting someone else?" I watched as he looked me over with his vibrant blue eyes. "Then again judging from your appearance your messy hair, no makeup and the fact that you're still wearing you pajamas I'd say you haven't had a date in at least 3 years."

"2 years actually."

"Oh what does it matter?" I watched as he removed his gloves from his long fingers and tucked them into his pocket before pulling off his short gray scarf. "Um…sorry about the phone call I tried to text you but you never responded back. Are you cell phone illiterate?"

"No actually I'm quite good at using them. Firstly you text from a number I didn't recognize therefore I didn't reply back I never do…"

"Figures." We stared at each other and the room filled with a brief odd silence. "Go on then."

"Secondly it's been in all the papers so I was a little creeped out by the fact that my dead friend…"

"Do we have to use the 'F' word so liberally?"

"I'm sorry if my memory serves me right before I moved out of London you had no problem using the 'F' word when it came to me."

"People change. Now if my memory serves me right you left without telling anyone not even your parents and that's enough to make even someone like me slightly bitter. I was 16 years old and my only acquaintance just vanished in the middle of the night." He turned around facing his back to me which he always did when he was crossed.

"Sherlock you solve crimes I'm sure you could have found me if you wanted to."

"I did didn't I?"

I sighed knowing this was getting me absolutely nowhere and because he was right. "Why are you here?"

"Because I need a place to stay. Somewhere to think. You live out in the middle of absolutely no where therefore 99% of the time it's nice and quiet which is when my thinking is at its best. You're a freelance photographer you're gone most of the time looking for clients so I'll be alone."

"How do you know what I do for a living? Did you gather that from the grime under my nails or was that a wild guess?" He smiled to himself and turned his head to the side nodding at the camera equipment I had sitting on a nearby shelf. "Right well. I'm off to shower and then I'll leave you to it. Your bedroom is upstairs second door on the left. If you need anything, which you probably won't you never do, just…" I took my phone from my robe pocket and waved it around. "…text me." I turned to leave, but I knew Sherlock would have to have the last word.

"Why did you leave?"

I stopped and turned to him shrugging my shoulders and walking towards the kitchen table taking a seat. "I just…I needed to get away that's all." He whipped around causing me to jump in my chair. "I hate it when you do that." He squinted his eyes and tilted his head and I knew exactly what he was doing. "Don't do that I don't want to talk about it." He continued to examine every last inch of me determined on finding the answer. "Sherlock…"

I watched as he stared at me almost as if he was looking into my very soul. "You were pregnant."

"Shut up."

"I can see it in your face. Something shameful enough for you to just get up and leave. You couldn't have killed anyone you don't have a violent bone in your body and it wasn't drugs because you even hated the fact that I smoked so you were highly against it and the only other thing that a girl of 16 would be so ashamed of that she couldn't even tell her parents would be an unwanted pregnancy."

I could feel a sense of rage begin to flow through my veins and I found it hard to keep myself from punching him right in the face. "You just…you never have any sympathy for people's feelings do you? You just blurt out whatever comes to mind you don't care if you hurt anyone in the process."

"What has sympathy ever given me? Sympathy is for the weak."

I pursed my lips together not wanting to discuss the matter any further. I got up and tightened the belt on my robe. This would be the one time Sherlock Holmes wouldn't get the last word and I was going to make sure of it. I walked past him towards the stairs. I turned back and watched as a smirk crossed his face almost as if he was pleased with himself. "By the way it was yours." I watched the smirk quickly fade from his face and instead it was replaced by a look of shock. "I lost it when I was about 10 weeks along." He lowered his head and stared at the floor knowing good and well that he better not even dare look me in the face. "You know it's funny everyone thought you were a virgin. They still do from what I hear." I sighed heavily. "Who's ashamed now Sherlock Holmes?" and with those words I left him standing there unable to speak unable to think. This was the Sherlock I knew. Vulnerable, human something many people never even got to see. He wasn't the man everyone thought he was and I knew he came back for more reasons than just to think. He came back for closure, he came back to see if I still had it in me. Now all he could do was wait to see if I'd give in. I have to admit I did miss solving cases with him even if we were young I still enjoyed it tremendously. From finding out what happened to Misses Jessup's cat to spying on Mycroft to see what he was up to it was always nice to just be around him. I had hidden my true self for so long that I didn't even know if I could still do it, but in the back of my mind there was still that lost piece of me that was dying to be released.


	2. A Date With A Man

Sherlock was right about one thing I would be gone most of the time. The very day he arrived I was out of the house by 9 and didn't return until 10 that night. It wasn't easy doing freelance work and I was a people pleasure always tweaking my schedule to meet my clients' demands. Usually work was rather repetitive it seemed like I always got hired for the same things. A wedding, Children's Portraits or the occasional sporting event. Today however I received quite an unexpected surprise from one of my clients who had invited me out for a late night cup of coffee. The moment I arrived home my feet couldn't carry me quickly enough to the front door. It had been 2 years since I had, had any real male companionship…ok Sherlock was right it was 3, but what did any of that matter? It was nice to know someone still found me attractive! I thrust my keys into the lock and turned it before throwing it open and racing inside. I only got as far as the bottom of the stairwell before I turned around and noticed Sherlock sitting in the living room with the lights off.

"You're going to go blind!" I shouted throwing on the lights which caused him to wince. "What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"I was thinking now stop wasting your electricity!"

"Have you been sitting here all day?"

I watched as he shifted his eyes and I knew the wheels in his head were turning. "Yes."

Instantly I figured out that he was lying as if the eye shifting didn't give it away. "You went out today."

I watched as a smirk crossed his face. He placed his hands palm to palm almost as if he was praying and pressed them against his lips. "Prove it."

I sighed heavily and began to examine him thoroughly. "You have gravel dust on the bottom of your shoes and you tracked it into the house as well. It's rose colored which is unusual, but there is only one place in Glasgow with that particular color of dust and that's Rosemount Gardens known for their exotic plant life and rose colored gravel. You must have gone out earlier on in the day around 10 am right after I left for your jacket is slightly damp due to the heavy fog we had this morning which didn't lift until noon. You also met someone there…"

"I did not!"

I laughed. "A canine friend and you have dog hair on your shirt. You didn't go out just to take a walk and be alone you went out in the hopes that when you returned you would test me to see if I still had it in me, which I do, but I hate to say I'm not interested. Now if you'll excuse me I have a date."

His eyes widened. "A date?"

"Yes a date with a man!" I turned around and turned off the light leaving him there the same way I found him. I quickly fixed myself up a bit before heading out again to meet my date. I glanced through the window of the small coffee shop and noticed him sitting alone at one of the tables waiting for me. My heart skipped a beat as I walked inside and said hello. His name was Rick and he was a nice man approximately 5 years older than me with salt and pepper colored hair unusual for someone his age. Never the less I was going to enjoy my time with him even if nothing came of it. We talked for a while about anything and everything. He ordered me a coffee and we munched on a few small sweets. Everything was going wonderfully and I was really enjoying myself. I turned my head just for a second just in time to see a mop of curly dark hair rising from the bushes outside the window. I watched as the rest of him came into view two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. I tried to pretend as if I hadn't even seen him, but before long he made his presence known.

"Cassandra. Imagine seeing you in a place like this!" He said trying to make it seem as if he had just randomly wandered in.

"Sherlock." I said sternly staring at him.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" Before I could answer he had pulled up a chair and took a seat. I felt my heart begin to race and I knew what was coming. I slumped down in my seat and waited for the fireworks. "So how long have you been married um…?"

"Rick." He said a confused look on his face. "What makes you say I'm married?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes completely unamused by Rick's stupidity. "You have a tan line around your ring finger don't play games with me."

"It's um…it's a ring my father gave to me when I was in school."

"If it had been something of so much importance to you such as you say you wouldn't bother taking it off."

"Well I…"

"Sherlock." I said through clinched teeth which I hoped would cause him to stop.

"How many children?"

By now Rick knew there was no use in even trying to lie as he reached behind him and grabbed his coat. "2."

"Well then I suggest you go home to your family." Without hesitation he did just that not even bothering to tell me goodbye. "Appalling."

I whipped my head around slapping him in the face with my long light brown hair. "The only thing appalling at this table is how you acted!" I began to gather my belongings to leave not wanting to be anywhere near Sherlock at the moment. "By the way it was obvious he was involved with someone by how neatly pressed his clothes were. No man puts that much time into his attire there for he probably has a wife who likes to set his clothes out for him and make sure he's always nice and neat." I then got up and left not looking back once only hearing his footsteps right behind me. "Go away!"

He grabbed my arm and whipped me around. "What the hell has happened to you?"

"No Sherlock don't even start that the real question is what the hell happened to you! You use to be so caring at least you pretended to be you pretended to feel emotions and now all you care about is your goddamn work!"

"I do have feelings!"

"No you really don't! If you did you wouldn't have come here tonight! You would have let me be knowing I'd be out doing something that made me happy!"

"I WAS JEALOUS ALRIGHT!"

I was a little taken aback by this revelation, but I had to admit it was nice hearing him say it so nice in fact I had to hear it again. "Say that one more time."

He sighed and hung his head. "I was jealous."

"Are you saying you still have feelings for me?"

He threw his head up a little panicked by my questions. "Feelings? I can be jealous without having feelings! I'm married to my work I don't have time for all this boring kissy kissy love stuff."

"Well you're out of work."

"I wouldn't be if you'd help me."

"And so the real reason you came back comes to light!"

"Look I don't have John anymore at least not yet. I need someone to help me settle a few things."

"If I agree to help you, will you promise to leave me alone and let me go back to my life?"

He hesitated after all I had given him a lot to swallow. "I…I promise."

"Where do we start then?"

"I thought I'd go see my brother."

I gagged. "Mycroft was always so creepy. Is he still like that?"

He gave me a crooked smile almost as if he wanted to laugh, but was holding back. "Maybe more so than before."

"Great just what I needed. Alright Holmes let's pay Mycroft a little visit."


	3. Mycroft

I sighed heavily as our taxi pulled up in front of Mycroft's home. I hadn't seen him in years and just the thought of being in the same room with him gave me chills and not the good kind. I turned and looked at Sherlock who simply sat there and stared at the house with a look of rage in his eyes. I rubbed my hand across the arm of his jacket almost as if to reassure him that he wasn't alone. I could understand his rage I mean his brother had betrayed him in the worst possible way and no amount of I'm Sorry could fix it. At this point I wasn't sure what Sherlock was looking for. Was it revenge or did he just want Mycroft to suffer the same way he had? I heard him jerk the door handle and I knew I was about to find out.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"It's not a matter of want I need to do this."

He opened the door and stepped out. I half expected him to just walk in without me, but as I scooted off the seat and swung my legs out the door I looked up and saw his hand. I smiled on the inside making sure not to show any expression on my face. After all this was only temporary and it would be foolish of me to let his kind gestures get to me. I took his hand and he helped me out closing the door behind me.

"You ready?" He asked pulling his coat tighter around him. I nodded and he took a deep breath. "I'll go around the back. Remember he hides the key under the doormat."

"Still?"

"He never learns. I'll meet you inside." With that we went our separate ways and as I approached the front door I could feel my heart jump into my throat. Technically what we were doing was breaking and entering and Mycroft had the ability to lock us both up without any hesitation. I squatted down and lifted up the mat not at all surprised to see a bright gold key lying beneath it. Mycroft always hid them under the door mat despite Sherlock warning him that that was the first place potential burglar's would look. I gripped it tightly in my hand and stood up. I reached out for the door and slid the key in as quietly as I could before turning it and opening the door just a crack. I looked down at my shoes and regretted wearing heels that day. I took them off and felt the pavement beneath my feet which wasn't the best sensation in the world. I walked inside and closed the door quietly behind me. Mycroft's home was bigger than I had expected, but I knew exactly where to find him. He was always found of sitting next to the fireplace drinking a cup of tea and as I rounded the corner that's exactly where I found him. I kept myself hidden around the corner and only the top of his head was visible over the tall armchair. I looked towards the archway on the other end of the room and watched as Sherlock came into view.

"Hello Mycroft."

Mycroft threw his tea cup into the air scared by the voice he had just heard. He quickly turned around and smiled. "I knew you couldn't be dead. You wouldn't just give up that easily."

"Very good Mycroft. You know why I'm here." Sherlock hovered over him staring down into his small beady eyes. "You know what you did."

Mycroft swallowed the lump in his throat as his heart began to race. "Sherlock just calm down. "

"I am as calm as I'm going to get."

"Please don't hurt me."

Sherlock chuckled loudly. "Hurt you? I'm not going to hurt you, but she might."

I took that as my cue to make an appearance and I crept up behind the chair where Mycroft still sat.

"Hello Mycroft."

"Cassandra!" He said surprised to see me. "Where did you come from?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is the fact that you gave your brother up to Moriarty without a regret in the world."

"Who says I don't regret it?" Mycroft sank in his chair. "Of course I do. I never wanted to hurt Sherlock, but I didn't have any other choice."

"So you told him everything which in turn forced your brother to make one of the most drastic decisions ever? You disgust me. I should kick your arse right now."

"Calm down Cass. We didn't come here to hurt him." Sherlock leaned over his face only a few feet away from Mycroft's. "Now you listen to me and you listen very carefully. You are not to mention to anyone that I was here. You will go straight to Lestrade and tell him exactly what you did. Than you will "resign" from your petty little government job, you will move far far away and you will never ever ever come back because if you do you will be sorry. Are we clear?" Mycroft sat there in silence knowing he had been had. "You should be glad I'm not asking more of you. This is believe me the least you could do for me."

Mycroft began to sob. His life was over and he couldn't say no to Sherlock's requests for he owed him. "First thing tomorrow morning I will go and see Lestrade."

"Good man." Sherlock stood up. "Well Mycroft it was nice knowing you."

"SHERLOCK!" Mycroft fell from his chair to his knees. "PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE! YOU'RE MY BROTHER!"

"I don't have a brother anymore. My brother is dead." Sherlock turned and looked at me. "Fine slap him once and then let's go." He then turned around and left while I gave Mycroft one of the hardest slaps he was ever going to get. I then chased after Sherlock whose pace was quickening with each step he took.

"So that's it then? You're just going to let him go!"

We walked outside to the waiting taxi and he turned to me. "For the most part Mycroft is completely harmless."

"What about what he did to you!"

"He had to do it. I understand."

"Aren't you even the least bit mad?"

"Oh I'm furious, but he is the least of my worries." Sherlock turned his head and I too looked in the same direction. There stood the silhouette of a man lurking in the shadows. "Moriarty has a family you know."

I watched as the man seemed to vanish and I turned back to Sherlock who didn't dare show his worry. "Then why are we doing this? If it's too dangerous for you we shouldn't be here."

Sherlock smirked and opened the taxi door. "The game isn't over. We can't stop until it is. Now come along." We piled into the back of the taxi and made our way to the main road. "I'm glad you're here."

"Well I'm not so sure I am. I don't want to die you know."

"You're not going to die."

"How do you know?"

"Because…I…" It was very unusual for Sherlock to stumble on his words. "I…would never let anyone hurt you."

This time I couldn't help but smile and I wasn't afraid to show it on my face. Too bad Sherlock wasn't paying any attention. "So what now?"

"We wait. As soon as Mycroft resigns we'll go for Lestrade."

"And then?"

A silence fell over us as I waited for Sherlock's reply. "…John Watson."


	4. Texts From Sherlock

Before we could see Lestrade we had to wait on Mycroft and he was taking his time. I could tell Sherlock was anxious to get back to London, but he wouldn't be getting there anytime soon. The two of us checked in to a rather old and dreary hotel on the outskirts of London where news of Sherlock's suicide hadn't quite made much of an impact in fact no one even gave him a second glance. He was a virtual nobody. We trudged up four flights of stairs due to the lift being down for repair and made our way into our room. I could hear Sherlock behind me still complaining about anything and everything.

"I still don't see why they didn't have a room with two double beds!" I rolled my eyes as he finally made it into the room removing his scarf and tossing it onto one of the chairs which sat against the wall. "I wonder how comfortable these chairs are? Oh well they'll do. You take the bed. Also what is with registering us as John and Jackie Kennedy? Couldn't you have picked someone more sophisticated?"

I folded my arms and stared at him as he raced about the room. "Well I was going to go with Brad and Angelina, but he's much more dashing than you." He whipped around and looked at me and I could see he was slightly hurt by what I said. I didn't care though for Sherlock was being a complete arse at the moment and he deserved it. I grabbed my wallet and headed for the door my stomach growling the entire way there. "I'm going to go pick us up some lunch. Do you want anything? Wait. That's a stupid question the answer is always no."

I tightened the belt around my coat and reached for the doorknob. "Um actually…"

I was quite surprised upon hearing his voice and turned back to face him. "Yes?"

"Well it depends on what you're going to get."

"I was thinking Chinese."

"Love it." I raised my eyebrow. "I mean…good great. I'll have fried wonton and the shrimp fried rice."

I nodded knowingly and left making my descent down the stairs and out the front door. I had seen a small Chinese restaurant a few blocks down on our drive up and quite honestly I needed some time alone. Sherlock however had other plans. No sooner then I left the sound of my phone's messaging alert could be heard coming from my coat pocket. I reached in and pulled out my white flashy iPhone. I tapped the screen and read the message.

**Hello.-SH**

At first I didn't know whether to reply back or just slip the phone back into its resting place, but curiosity got the best of me.

**You don't need to sign it SH I have your number programmed in my phone I know it's you. Um…-CW**

I waited for his reply which came swiftly.

**Sorry it's how I sign all my messages. It's just a force of habit.-SH**

**Is it too late to request a few eggrolls?-SH**

**No. I'm not even half way there yet.**

**Who is this?-SH**

**It's Cassandra.**

**Well put CW at the end of your text so I know who you are! There are probably a million Cassandra's in the world you know and I know probably 106 of them. 105 of them are dead.-SH**

**How morbid.-CW**

By now I could see the Chinese restaurant come into view as I crossed the street almost being run over by a Vespa in the process. I could hear my phone go off again, but I was too busy to answer right away. I half expected Sherlock to keep texting me until I replied, but there was silence. I ordered our food and waited until it was ready before making my way back to the hotel. As I hurried to the other side of the street I remembered I had a text waiting for me. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone not at all expecting the message that flashed across the screen.

**Do you think I would have made a good father?-SH**

My heart began racing. This wasn't something I was really prepared to answer, but he asked and I felt honesty would be best. I found a bench to sit on as my knees began to weaken with every step. I didn't want to hurt him with my answer, but I didn't see any other way around it. I began to tap the screen's keyboard writing my response in the most polite way I could before sending it.

**Quite honestly no.-CW**

I sighed hoping he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

**I agree.-SH**

**Why didn't you tell me though?-SH**

I thought about what I wanted to say.

**I was young and I was scared. You know my parents were both deeply religious they would have sent me away anyways. I wanted to tell you. I wrote a letter to you and everything, but I just decided it would be better if I just left without saying anything.-CW**

**Oh. Did you get the food?-SH**

I couldn't help but smile at his response which was very like him.

**Yes. On my way.-CW**

When I got back to the room Sherlock was as usual sitting at the table in complete darkness thinking about what I didn't ask. I turned on the light and he scrunched his face like he normally did and I had to admit it was kind of adorable in an odd scrunched up face kind of way. I pulled the food from the plastic bag and set it onto the table taking a seat across from him. There was an odd silence between us and as he began to eat I could sense something was bothering him.

"O.K. what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

I sighed and dropped my chopsticks on the side of my plate. "Are you upset because I said I didn't think you would have made a good father?" He didn't answer which pretty much meant I was correct. "Look Sherlock we were both young! There's no way at 16 that either of us could have taken care of a child."

"We could have tried." He said in his deep booming voice as he sprinkled pepper on everything but his food.

"Oh right. You know it wouldn't have worked. You would have analyzed our child's every whim as if it was some kind of science experiment! You would have been that weird dad who blogs about all the different types of baby poop."

I watched as he threw his hand over his mouth desperately trying to hide his laughter. "I would not!"

"Yes you would. The Science of Deduction! Today my baby's poop was green in color which means either it ate something with a high concentration of green food coloring or…"

"Stop stop stop. Just the thought of baby poop makes my stomach turn."

"Have you heard anything about Mycroft?"

"No and I can't get the damn telly to work."

I got up and made my way over to the rather old raggedy looking television set. "My god my parents had this exact same television set when I was a little kid. If I remember correctly whenever it would act up my dad would just…" I gave the side of it a swift bang and watched as the picture came into view.

"What's on right now?"

"It looks like Doctor Who."

"Boring. Change the channel. Look for some kind of official news if you could be so kind."

I turned the dial looking for anything that looked "official". Reruns of Fawlty Towers, Some French Television program, ah an image of Buckingham Palace this looked promising. I stood up and backed away sitting on the edge of the bed. "Apparently there's some official announcement going on at Buckingham Palace."

Sherlock jumped up and ran to my side. "Of course Mycroft has to make a huge scene of everything. Why couldn't he just resign quietly like a normal person?"

I shushed him as Mycroft came into view.

"It is with a heavy heart that I must resign my position with the British Government as of today. I ask that you allow me to properly deal with my personal issues at hand in privacy. Thank you."

I turned and looked at Sherlock who seemed to be quite bothered by the loss of his brother. "Are you going to be ok?"

"Fine." He then left without saying another word. I don't know where he went or what he did that night and I never asked him. Everyone needs time to themselves even Sherlock Holmes. When he arrived back at our room it was half past 2 in the morning and I wouldn't have even noticed if it hadn't been for him slamming the door. I yawned and closed my eyes to fall back asleep and then I felt the empty space next to me shift and I could feel someone's warm body next to mine. I turned over and stared at Sherlock's back and I could hear him trying to muffle his sobs. He was a broken man and he desperately needed comforting. I reached out and began to stroke his curly locks the way I did when we were young. I scooted closer and wrapped my other arm around his broad chest to let him know that I was there for him. I laid in that position for at least 2 hours never moving an inch. Finally I glanced over and he was asleep. I didn't want to move, but I also didn't want Sherlock to nag me about it later on. I turned over and pressed my back against his feeling his back rise with every breath he took. It was comforting just as it had always been and for the first time that night I felt like the old Sherlock had come back.


	5. Lestrade

The next morning I awoke to the sound of running water and found the space beside me empty. I stretched out my limbs and sat up in bed trying to figure out if last night had been a dream or if it had actually happened. I heard the faucet squeak and I turned my head towards the sink. There stood Sherlock glancing at himself in the mirror and for the first time since he came strolling back into my life my heart actually beat out of my chest. His chiseled cheekbones were accentuated by the dim glowing of the overhead light and his eyes were a piercing shade of blue. His back was broad and muscular quite a difference from the scrawny 16 year old pubescent male I once knew. I continued to lower my eyes taking in some of his unmentionable features when he quickly turned around. My eyes shot upwards, but not before taking note of the fact that the buttons on his purple shirt were being stretched to their limit.

"What are you looking at?" He asked his deep voice sending chills down my spine.

"Nothing. I um I have something in my eye." I blinked a few times pretending to remove said object from my eye.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a horrendous liar?" Before I could answer he continued to ramble on. "Now you remember what we discussed in the taxi? Of course you do you're not an idiot though sometimes I wonder about you."

"Rude?"

"What?" I just stared at him. "Hurry and get dressed. Now we should be able to take Broadway…"

"Broadway is closed."

"No it isn't."

I rolled my eyes. "Suit yourself."

I got dressed in a simple white button down short sleeve shirt with a high wasted pencil skirt and a pair of black heels. By the time I finished Sherlock had already gone down to the curb to call for a taxi and I knew there was simply no time for makeup or to do my hair. Sherlock never liked to be kept waiting. I hurried down as quickly as I could considering I was wearing 3 inch heels. I walked over and stood next to him waiting in the chilly English weather.

"You look…nice."

I turned and looked up at him. "I have no makeup on and my hair looks like a rats nest."

"I don't like women who feel they have to cake on ten pounds of make up just to make themselves look attractive and not really a rats nest more of a tangled mess. I prefer a woman's natural beauty."

I raised my eyebrows. "Are you hitting on me Sherlock?"

He waved his arm and the taxi stopped in front of us. "Of course I'm not using my fists as a weapon on you. I don't hit women. What is wrong with you?" He opened the door and hopped in the cab. "Would you like me to hit on you?"

I scooted in next to him and closed the door slightly frustrated. It was like pulling teeth when it came to him and romance of any sort. "I meant flirting, but you've ruined it now so just forget I said anything."

He shrugged and leaned over the seat to speak to the cab driver. "Scotland Yard please."

The cab driver nodded. "I'll have to take a detour. Broadway has been closed for days. Water main bust."

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly as he sank back in his seat and we took off. "How did you know?"

I stared out the window trying to sort out my thoughts and my growing feelings. "The roads are wet. It hasn't rained at all in the past 2 weeks besides I read it in the paper."

"You cheated."

"I cheated? What are we in primary school? I did what most normal people do I read a newspaper forgive me please."

"Done."

"Ugh you're so annoying sometimes."

A silence fell between us as I watched the scenery pass by my window. "Yes I was making rather heartfelt advances towards you."

"Oh so you admit you were flirting with me."

"Yes alright I was flirting with you! I lost my head for a second it happens I'm only human. It won't happen again I assure you." For the rest of the trip the both of us spoke not a word to each other. As we pulled up in front of Scotland Yard a little later then we had anticipated Sherlock turned to me. "Alright I'll meet you inside."

I got out and slammed the door shut as hard as I could making my way inside and up the stairs towards Lestrade's office. It amazed me how little security this place actually had. At first I thought Sherlock was just being funny, but he was simply telling the truth. Either that or he had this planned out more then I imagined. I stood in front of Lestrade's office door and took a deep breath before entering. I glanced down at the man who sat in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk while he ate with great excitement a blueberry muffin.

"Can I help you?" He asked and I watched crumbs fall from his overstuffed mouth.

"I'm Cassandra Whitmore I'm here to discuss a rather large case that you have for some reason closed."

He pointed to the chair at the front of his desk which I took meant for me to take a seat. "Which case would you be referring to?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

He swallowed a piece of his muffin at a most inconvenient time causing him to almost choke to death. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

He glanced at me scanning every inch of me with his big brown eyes. "Look the case is closed because it was quite obviously a suicide."

"Was it? Didn't quite look that way to me."

"You're one of those closet Sherlock fans. I've seen hundreds of you walk into my office without one iota of proof that he's not dead."

"What about the body Lestrade?"

"Traumatic head wound and internal bleeding. That doesn't prove a damn thing."

I stared at him and knew if I wanted him to talk I was going to have to take things one step further. I reached up and unbuttoned two buttons on my blouse exposing my rather ample boosums just a little more. "Come on now Gregory we know that's not true." I watched as he began to squirm in his chair. "You never saw his body afterwards did you?"

"Of…of course I did…"

I reached up and clasped my fingers around yet another button, but alas my flirting session came to an abrupt halt. The door flew open and there stood Sherlock his face red with rage. Lestrade practically fell from his chair in shock not at all sure of what to make of the situation. "I wasn't done yet!" I yelled very upset that he had interrupted my interrogation.

"I asked you to question him not undress yourself in his office! Get up Lestrade!"

We watched as Greg's eyes slowly appeared from behind his desk his face was as pale as a ghost. "But…you're dead."

"Don't be so stupid. I need your help."

"Give me one good reason why I should!"

Sherlock smirked. "Do the names Sally and Anderson ring a bell? I'm surprised at you. You actually let them convince you that I was some sort of kidnapper your IQ is far lower than I had initially thought."

"Now wait just a minute Sherlock!" Lestrade stood up and straightened his jacket brushing the crumbs from his shirt. "I had to go with the evidence. There was just too much of it I couldn't just ignore it all. I had a job to do dammit!"

"Calm down Lestrade you'll give yourself a heart attack. Now I need you to help me go and see John. I'd rather you break the news to him it may be easier for him to take."

"Oh come on let the man live his life."

"He's my only friend."

"Then who is this?" Lestrade asked pointing in my direction.

"She's just an acquaintance."

"Sherlock…John's married now. He's moved out of Baker Street."

This news I could tell devastated him and I watched as his face sank. "But...I…I still want to see him. He's my friend I have to let him see that I'm alright."

Lestrade sighed and grabbed his coat which sat on the back of his office chair. "Fine I owe you."

"That's right you do."

"Just don't expect too much out of this alright?"

Sherlock lowered his head knowingly and the three of us filed out of Lestrade's office and headed out.

As we made our way towards the street I noticed a rather thin woman with thick curly hair standing there with her mouth wide open in shock and I knew immediately that this must be Sally. Sherlock had told me all about her and in that moment I could no longer hold back. I departed from the two of them and made my way over to her. It was only when they heard the sound of a woman yelling did they realize I hadn't quite followed them to the taxi. Sherlock immediately ran to me and held my arms behind my back as I kicked at Sally whose nose I had just broken.

Sally stood there crying as blood dripped from her nose and stained her pristine white shirt. "Are these the kind of friends you associate with? Good for nothing trash!"

Sherlock glared at her and I felt him begin to slowly release me. I just wanted to get one more good punch in and I thought for sure I'd get my chance, but Lestrade put a stop to it all.

"That's enough!" He shouted. "Get her to the car before she punches anymore people."

"Gladly." With one swoop Sherlock had thrown me over his shoulder and carried me away.

Lestrade turned back to Sally who half expected him to take her side." Sally I want you to go inside. Pack your things and get out. You're fired."

She gasped. "What? You're not really going to take his side are you!"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THIS IS GOING TO LOOK ONCE THE NEWS BREAKS THAT WE ARRESTED AN INNOCENT MAN? NOW GET YOUR SHIT AND GET OUT!" He turned and began to walk back towards us.

"But what am I supposed to do? I need my job!"

He stopped in his tracks, turned to her and smiled softly. "Sorry. Not my division."


	6. Dr John H Watson

The taxi stopped in front of a rather shabby looking building which sent Sherlock into a frenzy.

"What are we doing here?"

Lestrade sighed and opened the door. "This is where John lives. In a second floor flat with his wife Mary."

Sherlock shook his head vigorously. "No…no I don't believe you. John would never live in such a place."

"Sherlock!" It was obviously Lestrade was becoming annoyed with how his old friend was behaving. "After you…left…John was never the same. He lost his job, he's spent all his money on therapy just to feel normal again and he's still not there. This is all he can afford considering his limp seems to have mysteriously returned and he's currently disabled and unable to work. I even offered him a desk job working beside me and he wouldn't take it." Sherlock leaned his head down shocked by the news of his friend's slow and unhealthy decline since his departure. "What did you expect? Did you think John would just suck it up and move on? It affected him more than you care to think. You were his best friend."

"I know that!" Sherlock snapped. "I had to do it Lestrade. Don't you understand? I had to do it to protect him! THEY WERE GOING TO KILL HIM! DO YOU GET IT?"

Lestrade sighed and nodded knowingly. "I get it, but the question is…" He lifted his eyes up towards the second story window where John's movements were somewhat visible through the white curtains. "…will he?" He then stepped out and we followed. We climbed the steps slowly and quietly not wanting to cause too much of a commotion. As we approached the top of the stairs Lestrade stopped and turned his head towards us. "You two stay put. I'll come back for you when he's ready." He smiled and patted Sherlock on the back as sort of a reassurance before making the rest of the ascent without us.

I backed up against the wall and rested my head against it closing my eyes for only a moment. I could hear Lestrade knocking on John's door and my heart started to beat harder. I was nervous for the both of them and I knew how important this was for Sherlock. I hoped everything would turn out just the way he planned, but I could feel it in my gut that this reunion wouldn't be a completely happy one. I inhaled deeply trying to keep my composure and then I felt it. I threw my eyes opened and looked down just in time to see Sherlock's hand fall into mine and he squeezed it tightly just as he always did when his nerves were getting the better of him. I smiled and ran my free hand against his shoulder.

"Sherlock you're…"

"I know I am." He slowly turned his head and stared at me with his piercing blue eyes. "Just…know that whatever happens I'm glad you're here with me."

I could feel the butterflies beginning to form in my stomach as we stood there gazing into each other's eyes. I could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes that there may still be something there between us. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel his warm lips against mine, but the moment was short lived. The moment Sherlock heard the door open he released my hand and turned away anxious to hear the conversation which sounded more like an argument.

John stood there glaring at Lestrade holding himself up with his black metal cane. "What do you want?" Lestrade wasted no time barging into John's flat completely uninvited which only pissed John off more. "Get out! You can't just walk into my flat unannounced!" John turned and began to hobble after him. "LESTRADE! I SAID GET OUT!"

"John. We need to talk."

"No no I'm done talking! I've told you everything that happened and I'm done talking about it!" His voice began to crack as he seemed to relive Sherlock's suicide all over again. "Just please leave me be." Just then his wife Mary came from around the corner wanting to know what all the commotion was about. "GO SIT IN THE KITCHEN! I'M HANDLING THIS! ALRIGHT? GOD!" She did as she was told and John continued his rampage. "You just don't know when to stop do you? I've answered all your questions I've submitted to your lie detector tests, which by the way I didn't appreciate, I've done everything you've asked me to! Do you know I've been to my therapist 3 times this week? 3 times! You've caused me so much stress I can't even function properly anymore!"

"John just sit down please."

"NO I'M NOT GOING TO SIT DOWN! THIS IS MY HOUSE I'LL DO WHATEVER THE HELL…"

"Sherlock is alive."

The moment those words left Lestrade's mouth John dropped his cane and it was apparent that the very breath had escaped from him. "Wh…what?" He managed to say before backing up and running into the couch flopping down on it in shock. "This…this isn't funny Lestrade. What kind of a sick twisted person are you?"

Lestrade then appeared in the doorway and signaled for us to make our appearance. Sherlock wasted no time almost falling flat on his face from running up the stairs so quickly. He burst through the open door and upon seeing his friend felt a calm warmth fall over him. He smiled at John who just sat there with an expressionless face. "Hello John."

John stood up his limp miraculous cured as he walked over to Sherlock and stood mere inches away from his face. I waited for them to hug something along those lines, but instead John cocked his arm back and punched Sherlock right in the eye. I watched as Sherlock plummeted to the ground and John quickly jumped on top of him eager to deliver more blows. If it wasn't for Lestrade stepping in and breaking them up I'm sure John would have beat him to a bloody pulp.

John began to cry uncontrollably as Lestrade restrained him. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND! I TRUSTED YOU!"

I helped Sherlock to his feet as he stared at John with one eye open while his other one swelled up. "I had to do it! They were going to kill you."

"THAT'S YOUR EXCUSE FOR EVERYTHING ISN'T IT? YOU DO THESE THINGS TO PROTECT ME? WELL A LOT OF GOOD THAT DID!" Just as he began to flail again I caught his eye. "AND WHO IS THIS?"

I jumped slightly startled by the sudden attention that was brought my way. "Um…I'm Cassandra an acquaintance of his."

My being there for some reason seemed to calm John down. "Of Sherlock's? Sherlock you have a girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend." He retorted. "She's just…an old friend I grew up with. Are you bipolar? Just a minute ago you were bashing my face in now you want to know if I have a girlfriend?"

"Well forgive me, but it just made you seem more human." John continued to struggle to free himself. "Let me go Lestrade I won't hurt him." Greg slowly released him and John approached me. "Do you think he's really sorry for what he did?"

I wondered at first why John was looking at me for answers, but I think he knew that I knew Sherlock better than even he did and he wanted to know for a fact that Sherlock was capable of human emotion. "He is. He told me everything and I know he would never do anything to purposely hurt you he's not like that. You're his best friend and believe me you're as rare as they come. He would never do anything to jeopardize that unless he absolutely had to. You know that as well as I do."

I watched as a smile crossed John's face and I knew my answer had been enough. He turned to Sherlock and unexpectedly threw his arms around him enveloping him in a strong hug. "I forgive you Sherlock! I ALWAYS BELIEVED IN YOU!"

Sherlock smiled softly and returned the hug which was enough for Greg and I to know it was time for us to leave. We headed back downstairs and stood on the sidewalk waiting for the two friends to emerge from the old building.

"So um…Cassandra." Greg said trying to make small talk. "How long are you going to be in town for?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow. That was the agreement Sherlock and I had."

"Do you want to go?"

I shrugged. "He doesn't really need me and quite honestly I don't think he really wants me around."

Greg chuckled. "He doesn't think anyone notices, but I see the way he looks at you."

"He looks at me like some sort of a distraction."

"Because you are. A good distraction mind you…" Before the conversation went any further Sherlock and John emerged talking as if they had never even been apart. "Sherlock. I heard you're sending this pretty little lady home tomorrow."

"That's the plan. Oh by the way John's going to drop you off at the train station tomorrow morning."

I furrowed my eyebrows completely annoyed by what he had just said. "But…I thought you were taking me."

He groaned. "I'm injured and I'm anxious to get back to work I don't have time to be dropping people off."

"Well…you will come see me off won't you?"

"Cassandra. Look I'm a very busy person and you're grown woman you can get yourself on the train. You don't need me to hold your hand." He shuffled past me and entered the taxi leaving me standing there trying not to cry.

I looked at John who could see how hurt I was by Sherlock's sudden change in demeanor. "Um…I'll meet you at Baker Street later. I'm going to take Cassandra out to get some coffee."

Sherlock stared at his friend a little confused. "What? You're married John. No need to go gallivanting through London with her."

"SHERLOCK!" He said in a rather harsh tone knowing that everytime his friend opened his mouth he was only hurting me more. "I'm taking her out for coffee. I will meet you there later." He then slammed the door shut and stepped back onto the curb beside me. We watched as the cab drove away disappearing around a corner. "Right then."

I looked over at John still trying to keep myself from completely breaking down. "You don't have to do this."

He just smiled and extended his arm out to me. "I want to do this. Any friend of Sherlock's is a friend of mine. Besides…I'm rather curious as to why you of all people would hang around a man like Sherlock Holmes. There's obviously something I'm not seeing."


	7. Richard Brook is Real

Sherlock sat in the back seat of the cab rubbing his temples with his fingers not even acknowledging the fact that Lestrade was still there. The thought of John and I anywhere together alone caused his mind to go places it hadn't been in years. It gave him a great headache and he wanted nothing more than to just crawl back into his same old bed at Baker Street and hide out for the rest of the afternoon.

"Are you alright Sherlock?"

The sound of Lestrade's voice broke him from his current train of thought. "What? Oh yeah fine."

"You don't seem fine. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were jealous."

Sherlock threw his eyes open and stared at Lestrade. "Jealous? Jealousy is for the weak minded. If my two best friends want to go out and have coffee…"

"So she's your best friend now?" The two men stared blankly at each other. "First she was just an acquaintance, then your friend, and now she's your best friend. You know what comes after that and the moment you get a girlfriend I might just cry a little."

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" Before the argument could go any further Sherlock received a text message which ended the conversation abruptly. He reached into his coat pocket and read the message that popped up on the screen.

**I miss you darling. Come to Baker Street and let's catch up.**

**RB**

Sherlock closed his eyes and began to think of everyone he knew with the initials RB. Ryan Barrowman? No convicted for murder and sentenced to life in prison. Rose Barrymore, Robert Brinkley, Raymond Branson…Richard Brook. He immediately cleared it from the screen and he knew what he had to do even though deep down inside he wanted the complete opposite.

* * *

><p>John and I sat at a small table in the corner of the coffee house chatting about the many sides of Sherlock Holmes. John showed me a very different side of the man I grew up with. He had become bitter and completely lacking in emotions not at all how I remembered him. He told me how he never really let anyone get close to him and that even though they considered each other their best friend he still didn't know much about him.<p>

"You know why he's like that don't you?" I said as he finished his last sentence. "He's like that because of me."

"Oh come on you're too hard on yourself. From what Mycroft has told me Sherlock's always been this way."

"What does Mycroft know about his brother? They never even really spent any time together. He was always so hard on Sherlock for being different like it was some kind of disease to be smart. Matter of fact everyone treated him like a freak…"

"Except you."

I smiled softly as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and turned the screen on.

**Change of plans. I've booked you on the next train out of London. **

**Sending your luggage ahead.**

**SH**

As I read it I noticed John himself received a text message informing him that he was to escort me to the train station that afternoon. In that moment I could no longer hold it in and I began sobbing uncontrollably. I felt so unwanted by the man I once called my friend. He was simply discarding me like an old sweater he didn't need anymore. Part of me knew this was part of the plan after all I had asked him to leave me alone after he had reconnected with John, but I didn't expect him to be so harsh about it. John tried his best to calm me down, but I was inconsolable. He helped me from the table and walked me outside holding me up as best he could. I had never been so distraught in all my life and quite honestly I didn't like it. Why was I so upset over something Sherlock Holmes said to me? It was a known fact that in recent years he had become an arrogant arsehole of sorts, but I still wanted to believe that deep down that he was still his old self. Shame on me for thinking that. John hailed us a taxi and if I only knew what was going on at Baker Street that very moment my feelings would have been very different.

* * *

><p>The taxi pulled up to the curb at 221 B Baker Street and Sherlock wasted no time exiting with Lestrade right behind him. He turned around and shoved the investigator back into the car closing the door before shouting to the driver "TAKE HIM BACK TO SCOTLAND YARD AND WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T LET HIM OUT OF YOUR SIGHT!" The car raced away causing Sherlock to lose his footing for a moment, but he quickly regained his ground. He then rushed into the building and was immediately greeted by an ecstatic Mrs. Hudson.<p>

"SHERLOCK YOU'RE BACK!"

He didn't even stop to properly say hello instead he just kept making his way back to his old flat. "Hello Mrs. Hudson. Goodbye Mrs. Hudson. Did you get my rent checks?" He opened the door to his old flat and was greeted by a slew of dead flowers. "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME?" He turned his head and took note of the man standing in front of the fire place and a lump immediately formed in his throat.

"Surprise!" The man shouted in a high pitched sing song voice. "Did you miss me? I missed you."

Sherlock closed the door and made his way to his favorite armchair which was covered in dead roses. He quickly removed them and took a seat. "How did you do it Jim? I saw you put the gun in your mouth."

The man turned around and grinned. "Are you sure it was me?"

Sherlock then began to take notice of the man's appearance. It was uncanny how much he resembled Moriarty, but the age lines around his eyes gave him away. "Your little brother."

"Jim. Mmm. Idiot he was."

"How could you do that to your own brother?"

"Do you mind if I?" He pointed the seat across from Sherlock and cleared it of debris. "Apparently you had a lot of fans Sherlock. They left all kinds of flowers and cards outside Baker Street sort of like a shrine to their fallen hero." He sat down and their eyes met. "Did you notice how sickly Jim looked that day? Didn't quite look himself did he? Cancer will do that to you. No he wanted to die so what a better way to go than to help me kill myself…well make it appear that I killed myself. I don't see myself going with a pistol in my mouth do you?"

"Tea?"

"No thanks. I had some before I left."

Sherlock continued to examine every inch of the man curious as to who he really was. "Richard Brook is it?"

"Oh yes about that. You see…Moriarty was real…Richard Brook is real. That's kind of what happens when you grow up in an orphanage and are adopted out to different families. I had wonderful adoptive parents. Raised me in a good Catholic household. I was even an altar boy. Can you imagine? The rage I felt though never went away. I killed them both when I was 21…do you remember Sherlock?" Richard watched a confused look cross Sherlock's face. "No? Perhaps this might remind you…" He held his phone up and began to type away turning the phone to face Sherlock as he hit send. "Ring a bell?"

Sherlock took note of the name the message had been addressed to and he became filled with worry and anger. "You leave her alone. "

"You know I can't do that. The game is still on. I may have a little fun with this one though if you don't mind. I love how you thought you could just send her away and that I wouldn't find her. I think I may take a holiday I hear Glasgow is nice this time of year."

"Just…it's me you want not her. She has nothing to do with it."

"She had everything to do with it. She's the only one capable of making you human. I want you Sherlock and she's my ticket to getting to you." He grinned and stood up collecting himself. "You know maybe I won't take that holiday after all. At least not yet. You two should be alone." He walked past the armchair making a point to brush against Sherlock's arm as sort of a final reminder that he was indeed real. "Have fun with her while you can. Then it's my turn." He then departed and left Sherlock to deal with his emotions which was something he wasn't quite use to.

"Sherlock!"

He breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing John's voice coming from downstairs. "UP HERE JOHN!"

He listened as John's hurried footsteps became louder as he walked into his old flat and found his former roommate sitting alone surrounded by dead flowers.

"Well this is a little morbid I must say."

"Is she gone?"

John rolled his eyes. "You know I knew you were a huge dick I just didn't know you were the world's largest dick! That poor girl cried all the way to the train station because of how you treated her. I don't get how you can be so cruel sometimes Sherlock. Was there ever a time when you had feelings for her? I mean real true feelings. Was there ever a time you actually cared about her?"

"YES! ALRIGHT YES!" Sherlock's head began throbbing again as he made the decision to share with John a memory that had been stored away for years. "I was 16 years old she lived a block away from me. She was the only one in the neighborhood around my age and the only one capable of handling my massive intellect."

"Of course I forgot the massive intellect…"

"Do you want to hear this or don't you?" John sighed and said not another word. "That year there was a horrific murder some said I was insane, but I knew that those 2 people couldn't have possible just died in that fire they were murdered and then set on fire. No one believed me I went to the police I tried to get them to listen and they wouldn't budge they said the case was closed. The only person who believed me was her. She was my only friend. One night I was completely overwhelmed with the thought of how those people must have suffered before they died all the evidence pointed to torture and it replayed over and over again in my head it drove me mad. I ran away in the middle of the night ran away to the only place I could go to be alone. I sat on the pier by the lake for hours I even sat there while it rained uncontrollably for an entire hour. The only person who came looking for me was Cass and she knew exactly where to find me. She walked through the mud and the rain and she found me." By now Sherlock was beginning to choke on his words and John could only stand there amazed. "We sat on that pier and talked and I realized then I liked her as more than just my friend. That was where we had our first kiss and then you know."

John's eyes widened. "I might know but I want to hear you say it. If you don't I won't believe it." Sherlock cleared his throat and whispered incoherently. "I'm sorry I didn't catch that." He whispered a little louder. "Oh come on you can't expect me to hear you when you're whispering!"

"SEX JOHN! WE HAD SEX!"

John started to giggle like a teenage schoolboy. "She made my little Sherlock into a man."

"Oh shut up."

"I'm sorry I just…I honestly thought you were a virgin. No offense."

Sherlock then began to chuckle. "If anyone is a virgin it's Mycroft. He couldn't even pay someone to have sex with him." The two friends laughed and it was just like old times.

"So then what happened?"

Sherlock shrugged. "We spent the summer together."

"In bed."

"Yes alright and then as the summer came to a close she left and I never saw her again."

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say John? We lived happily ever after? There's no such thing…"

"What was the name of the family in that house?"

Sherlock began to think back and then he realized what Richard had been babbling on about and it all began to fall into place. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate somewhat as he managed to get the name out. "Brook." Before he could go into a full-fledged panic attack his phone went off. It was a message from Lestrade. They had found a body washed up on the banks of the river Thames and they needed Sherlock's help. "We have a case." He jumped from the chair and grabbed John by the arm anxious to fill his mind with something other than all the feelings he had for Cassandra. As they drew closer to the crime scene Lestrade sent Sherlock another text.

**Take your time. We have another consulting detective already on the scene.**

**GL**

The car pulled up as close as he could letting them out a few feet away from the yellow taped off area. Sherlock wasted no time finding Lestrade wanting to know what kind of a joke he was trying to pull. "Alright Lestrade. Where is this so called consulting detective? You know I'm the only one in the world I mean really I made up the job title myself."

"Well then what job title should I have considering I do the same line of work as you?"

Sherlock smiled as I appeared from behind Lestrade. "I was hoping it would be you."

I smiled back and tucked my long hair behind my ears. "You should know you can't get rid of me that easily."

"Well I tried. It was for your own good you know."

"Do you want to see the body?"

"I'd love that." The two of us then walked arm and arm towards the poor man who clearly had committed suicide, but we decided to entertain ourselves for a while coming up with random and highly unlikely scenarios just to amuse ourselves.

Greg stood next to John watching us carry on as if there was no bad blood between us. "I don't get it."

John smiled and patted Lestrade on the shoulder. "They had sex."


	8. The Friend Request

Sherlock sat alone in his favorite armchair at 221 B Baker Street. The past month hadn't been good to him and he found himself feeling weaker by the day. My presence had taken both an emotional and physical toll on the consulting detective and he began to have aches and pains he never knew existed. The only way he found he could relieve himself was to sit alone and think. I had gone to live with John and Mary as we all agreed this was for the best, but after a while I began to feel as if I was getting in the way. I had to talk to Sherlock about my living arrangements, but my complaint would have to wait. The sound of the buzzer could be heard echoing throughout the building which only annoyed Sherlock more.

"MRS. HUDSON SOMEONE IS AT THE DOOR!" The buzzer went off again and then again. He rolled his eyes and stood up stretching out his sore limbs and slowly making his way down the stairs. He turned the knob and opened the door. His heart jumped at the sight before him and he wasn't at all in the mood for games.

"Hello Sherlock. Have coffee with me?"

He glared at Brook and opened the door wider. "I'll go make some then."

"No. I thought we'd go to that nice place around the corner that your best friend and little misses like to frequent so much. I'd be worried if I were you."

Part of Sherlock wanted to be jealous and throw a fit right there in front of him, but he simply didn't have the energy for it. "It's not like that with them. I'll grab my coat." He then retreated inside and came back moments later. The two than proceeded to the café around the corner and sat right next to the window not at all trying to hide themselves. By now the skies had grown darker and a light rain began to fall much to the amusement of Mr. Brook.

"I do love the rain. It's so dark and mysterious."

"It's precipitation Brook nothing out of the ordinary for London." The waitress brought them two cups of coffee and Sherlock took note of the bright white porcelain cups. "Odd. They're usually red. I suppose a change of color couldn't hurt this place."

"You don't look so good Sherlock."

"No and I don't feel so good either. Business has been slow…"

"I can fix that."

"No." He retorted in an angry tone. Brook put his hands up in sort of an "I surrender" manner as Sherlock continued to talk. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, and all thanks to you. I don't know when you're going to turn up and that scares me."

Brook smiled happy to know he had gotten to Sherlock. "Does the thought of me scare you…" He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a rather old looking envelope addressed to Sherlock. "…or is it the thought of what I might do to Cass…"

"Don't ever call her that."

"Oh touchy touchy. Here this is for you." He placed the envelope on the table and slid it across to Sherlock who was staring intently at it.

"I'll read it when I get home."

"No now." Brooke leaned over anxious to know what was in the letter. "Read it out loud."

Sherlock didn't expect anything important to be in the envelope than again Richard Brook was a very sneaky person capable of playing with emotions he never knew he still had. He tore open the flap and removed the contents unfolding the letter. The moment he saw the handwriting he knew exactly who it was from and he hesitated.

"I'm not reading this."

"You have to or I just may have to get rid of her a little sooner than expected. I may even get John while I'm at it."

Sherlock could feel a knot form in his throat as he swallowed hard and began to read the letter out loud.

**Dear Sherlock,**

** By now you will have noticed that I have gone. I had no choice my parents would have made me leave anyways and I'd rather do it on my own terms. You're probably wondering the reasoning behind my untimely departure and I won't hold that information from you. I recently discovered that I'm pregnant and there is no way either of us could raise a child at our age so I think this is for the best. I know right now you're probably blaming yourself. Don't. I hope to come back to you one day, but until than just remember that I love you. I love you so much. You're a good man Sherlock and had we been older I think you would have made a wonderful father. Please don't forget about me.**

** All My Love,**

** Cass**

Sherlock fought back the urge to cry for her refused to be that vulnerable in front of the one man he despised more than anyone. "How did you get this?"

Brook smiled. "Her mother. Nice woman she is." Their eyes met. "You won't know what you have until it's gone Sherlock. Do you really want it to be that way? Do you want to wake up one morning and find her dead mutilated body…"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" He slammed his fists down on the table almost knocking both coffee cups over. "Why are you doing this?"

"Simple. I want you to be as weak and as vulnerable as possible when I kill her. I want you to watch I want to see you in pain I want to see your anguish." Just then Brook's phone went off and he pulled it from his jacket pocket. "Well well well. It seems your little girlfriend is on her way over here right now. In fact she's about to appear right in front of this window…" Sherlock turned his head as his heart began to pound out of his chest. "In 3…2…"

Before Brook could say 1 I walked into view entering the very same coffee shop where Sherlock and his arch enemy had been sitting. I looked around and found Sherlock sitting alone hunched over and trembling slightly. Brook had all but vanished and I had no idea he had even been present. I rushed over and sat across from him. "Are you alright?"

Sherlock turned his head and glanced at me giving me a faint smile. "I'm fine just a little tired."

I smiled back and took note of the second coffee cup tucked away by the window. "You were here with someone?" Sherlock stared down at the mug not saying a word. I picked it up and took note of the color and the bright pink lip marks around the outer edge. "A female friend. Was she pretty?"

He then grabbed the cup from me and tossed it to the floor shattering it into pieces. "She was hideous. Absolutely hideous." He began to chuckle and I found it to be somewhat contagious. "What are you doing here?"

I didn't know what to think of the situation, but I decided to let it go. "John said I might find you here."

"Of course."

"I wanted to talk to you about the flat at Baker Street."

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows having remembered the last conversation we had about this. "Look I already told you…"

"I know what you told me. 'Mrs. Hudson wouldn't approve'." I said mocking him in the deepest voice I had possible.

"Well she wouldn't."

"Why not we're just friends? Mary and John need their space."

"I'm sorry, but the answer is no. "He finished his coffee and paid the bill.

"Fine. Can I at least come by and get some of my things?"

"I guess." He got up and to my surprise headed over the other side of the table pulling my chair out for me and helping me up.

"Wow. That was very nice of you."

"We're in public I have to make a good impression."

I smirked as the two of us left and began our walk back to Baker Street in silence. Upon my arrival at the flat I could see Sherlock was having trouble keeping the place tidy.

"I think you need a maid." I turned around and looked for Sherlock. He was standing in the kitchen by the sink hanging his head clearly deep in thought. "Right I'll just get my things and go." I then proceeded into his bedroom to gather my belongings which had somehow ended up in his closet.

Sherlock listened to my every move having me here caused him to think about the letter I had written him the night I left and he found he could no longer keep his composure no matter how much he tried. I heard the door open as I put the remainder of my clothing into a bag.

"I'm almost done."

I then felt his lips against my neck as he ran his long fingers threw my hair. I dropped everything I had in my hands and turned around quickly pressing my lips hard against his. They were just as I remembered soft and pleasing against my own. It didn't take long for the clothes to come off and I couldn't help, but stare in awe at his now more manly body. His chest was chiseled with a few patches of blonde colored hair, his back exposed muscles I never knew existed and his ass well it was perfection. These were just the physical things that turned me on about Sherlock Holmes the rest was purely emotional. I had been waiting for him. For years I compared every single man I dated to him and none of them even came close. I could have just gone to bed with every man I came across, but it wouldn't have been the same. My heart belonged to him it always had and it always would.

* * *

><p>John stared at his watch and than at his cell. I had told him I would call him to let him know if I would be moving out of his and Mary's home and when I didn't respond he started to worry slightly. He grabbed his jacket and headed to Baker Street not knowing what was going on behind closed doors. He made it to the doorway and looked around.<p>

"Sherlock?" A loud bang came from the bedroom as he stepped inside. "Sherlock are you here?" He than heard something that sent him into complete shock. He stood there his mouth dropped his eyes widened. The door to Sherlock's bedroom flew open and he walked out in nothing but his bed sheets. "Hello."

Sherlock jumped slightly not expecting to see John standing there with such an odd grin on his face. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"The door was open. Sherlock were you…" I then appeared wearing Sherlock's silk robe and that sent John into a fit of giggles. "I KNEW IT! I SO KNEW IT! OH MY GOD!"

"Calm down John." Sherlock said not wanting him to cause such a scene.

"I CAN'T CALM DOWN! THE NOISES THAT CAME OUT OF THAT ROOM…I'M NOT EVEN SURE THEY WERE HUMAN! SHERLOCK I JUST…I FEEL LIKE A PROUD FATHER!"

Before either of us could answer we heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and then our worst nightmare appeared in the doorway. "What is with all the shouting?" Mrs. Hudson stepped inside, screamed, and shielded her eyes. "SHERLOCK! PUT SOME CLOTHING ON!"

"With pleasure." He turned around to leave. "Oh and Mrs. Hudson. I've found another flat mate."

Mrs. Hudson uncovered her eyes and stared over at me with a look of disgust on her face. "Now Sherlock you know I don't approve of this one bit."

"You owe me, she'll pay her half, and people do it all the time."

"Yes and they're usually in a relationship."

"Who says we aren't?" Everyone in the room including myself turned and stared at Sherlock who managed to keep a straight face. "Right well I'm off to get dressed and change my relationship status on Facebook." He then turned around and raced back to the bedroom leaving us all stunned.

John seemed to be the most shocked even Mrs. Hudson's own reaction couldn't top his. "Wait…wh…YOU HAVE A FACEBOOK! I'M SO FRIEND REQUESTING YOU!"


	9. IOU

**Sorry I've been updating so much! I'm just really excited about this story and hope to finish it soon so I can start writing the sequel! Thank you for your reviews they are very appreciated. Don't be afraid to leave one I won't bite :)**

* * *

><p>John clung to the brown paper bag full of groceries as he made his way up the stairs somewhat exhausted from his shopping trip. Today was his birthday and he had rather hoped to spend a quiet afternoon at home eating toast with jam, but Sherlock and I had a better idea. The door slowly opened as John made his entrance completely unaware of our presence. He placed the brown bag on the side table, locked the door, and kicked off his shoes.<p>

"Mary they didn't have whole milk so I got that 2% crap that Sherlock likes to drink."

"It's not crap!"

John jumped and turned around his back against the wall his hand over his heart. "DAMMIT YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH! What do you want anyways?"

Sherlock shrugged and in his most unenthusiastic voice managed to mutter a very quick. "Surprise!"

John pushed himself away from the wall his heart still beating furiously. "Surprise? Oh yeah my birthday. I thought we agreed we weren't going to worry about my birthday this year."

"We just stopped by to say hello." Sherlock smiled and John knew immediately he was hiding something.

"You're not going to make me play Cluedo again are you?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow in confusion. "Last night remember? You had that same look on your face right before you sprung the Cluedo board on me and forced me to sit through 3 straight hours of hell! I knew you were exhausting to play with, but Cass well all I have to say to both of you is the victim never commits the crime!"

"But it's…"

"NO SHERLOCK! IT'S NOT IN THE RULES!" John sighed and looked around the room. "Where's Cassandra?"

Sherlock pointed towards the loo. "She ran off to the toilet. I think she has some kind of stomach bug you should check on her. Hopefully it's not contagious."

"Fine. Just make yourself at home." Sherlock had no problem invading John's flat and promptly sprawled his long slender body across the couch. John shook his head and made his way down the hallway. He pressed his ear against the door and listened to the muffled sound of my vomiting. "Cass are you ok?" I was too sick to answer. "I'm coming in." He slowly opened the door and peered down at me as I bowed to the porcelain God. "You look terrible." He closed the door and folded his arms staring down at me.

"Thanks John."

His eyes began to examine me without my knowledge and I felt my stomach begin to turn again. "When are you going to tell him?"

I slowly turned my head and brushed my hair from my face. "Tell him what?"

John chuckled softly. "Tell him that you're pregnant."

My head shot up as I glared at him. "I'm not pregnant!"

"Oh please! You're vomiting uncontrollably, you've been tired, frequent headaches, and you pee a lot more than usual even I don't piss as much as you and well…" I waited for him to finish. "Your chest area…"

"You've been staring at my boobs?"

He blushed slightly a little embarrassed. "Well they're kind of hard to miss. I'm surprised Sherlock hasn't noticed."

I couldn't help but laugh at how absurd John's diagnosis was. "Well Dr. Watson I think you may have lost your touch."

"Either that or you're in denial."

"I'm not in denial."

"What it's been 3 months since you and Sherlock have been…you know. I highly doubt he wears a condom considering in his eyes that would be completely unnatural and I'm sure if you go on his blog he has a list of 1,000 reasons why they're insufficient." The two of us both began to laugh knowing everything he just said was probably true.

"I'm on birth control."

John was surprised by this information and it made his conclusion seem all but inaccurate. "I didn't know that. Well then you probably just have the flu or something. I have some medicine I can give you." He leaned over and helped me up off the floor grabbing a wash rag and wiping my face. "Come on you're missing all the fun." We exited the bathroom and joined the rest of the party in the living room.

"So what did I miss?"

Sherlock continued to lay on the sofa motionless. "Nothing. I was just about to give John his present."

John's eyes widened. "You didn't have to do that."

Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys which he tossed to him. "Happy Birthday."

John examined them and immediately shot Sherlock a curious glance. "You're giving me a Porsche? OK who died in it?"

"A young man 22 years old shot in the head. They cleaned it up rather nicely you can't even tell. Lestrade suggested it."

"You're giving me a dead man's car for my birthday? Am I the only one who sees something really morbid about that?"

Just as Sherlock was about to reply his phone went off. "Oooo maybe we have a client." He glanced at the message and I watched his face turn somber.

**We have an emergency. I'm downstairs. Don't bring Cass.**

**GL**

I knew immediately I could feel it in my bones. I ripped the keys from John's hand and raced down the stairs. Lestrade seemed all but stunned to see me as I walked passed him and hopped into John's brand new Porsche revving up the engine and speeding away.

Just as I left Sherlock and John met Lestrade on the sidewalk both very out of breath. "You…you just let…her go?"

Lestrade shrugged and stared at John who was keeled over trying to catch his breath. "She left so quickly I didn't know what to do." Sherlock lunged at Lestrade pulling his car keys out of his pocket and jumping into the driver's seat of the investigators bright blue Subaru. "Now come on! I'm driving!"

Sherlock rolled down the window and stuck his head out. "You drive like my dead grandmother now just get in the damn car!" The two did as they were told and Sherlock took off sending Lestrade into a panic. It took him longer than expected to catch up with me after all his Subaru was no match for the high power engine of the Porsche which weaved in and out of traffic seamlessly. It wasn't until we found a patch of straight uninhabited road that he was able to catch up with me. Lestrade kept his eyes on the speedometer the needle continuing to shift higher. "Sherlock you're making this car do things it wasn't meant to do!"

I glanced in my rear view mirror and could see them catching up to me, but if anyone was going to get there first it was going to be me. Sherlock tried to pass me and I quickly swerved in front of him almost running him off the road.

"YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS INSANE!" John shouted before mumbling a few prayers to himself.

"I KNOW!" Sherlock retorted trying to keep himself steady as he tried to pass me again.

I could see my turnoff in the distance and there was no way I was going to let him continue to follow me. I matched his speed blocking him from shifting lanes and then at the last possible moment I jerked the wheel and made my turn leaving him in a cloud of dust.

Sherlock had missed the turn and this angered him greatly. He began beating heavily on the horn much to Lestrade's dismay.

"EASY ON THE HORN SHERLOCK! HOW DID SHE KNOW ANYWAYS?"

Sherlock kept his eyes on the road still quite pissed off. "It's her parents Lestrade. Children know when their parents are hurt. I'll drop you off at the house and then I'll go find her."

"Why? Won't she be there?"

It took Sherlock almost half an hour to find his way through his old neighborhood. The air was filled with a thick black smoke clear signs that there had been a recent fire. He turned his head and stared at the house I once lived in. It had been reduced to nothing but a pile of blackened ashes and he began to relive that summer all over again. He stopped in front of the house and stared at what was left. A few charred beams where the doorway once was and on them were the letters I-O-U. Sherlock could feel his heart jump into his throat as he looked at the firefighters who were huddle together trying to piece together what could have started the fire. He stared at them and one began to turn to stare back. The moment Sherlock and Brook's eyes met tears began to flow freely from the detective's eyes.

John leaned over the seat and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Sherlock are you alright?"

"GET OUT!" He shouted wanting nothing more than to find me. Lestrade jumped out followed by John who barely had time to shut the door behind him before the car sped off.

I sat at the edge of the pier the same place I had found Sherlock the night he couldn't sleep tortured by the images of the Brook's family. I felt alone, sad, but angrier than anything. I listened as the sound of a car parking at the top of the hill echoed through the calm quiet evening. I turned and watched as Sherlock approached me not knowing the anger I had towards him in that moment.

"Cassandra…"

I stood up and turned to him slapping him as hard as I could. "How long have you known Sherlock?" He tried to speak and began to stumble on his words. "You knew the whole time that Moriarty was still alive…"

"It isn't Moriarty."

"THAN WHO SHERLOCK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I SAW IN THAT HOUSE!" I pushed him hard knocking him off his feet. "My parents burned beyond recognition with the letters I-O-U etched into their burned flesh, the house I once lived in is now a pile of ashes and the only thing left is a doorway with the letters I-O-U written across it. YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME! I COULD HAVE SAVED THEM!"

"No. You have no idea what you're dealing with. He's after everything I've ever loved in my life and you're next on the list. Do you understand? I did it to protect you!"

"WELL YOU'VE FAILED SHERLOCK!" I couldn't hold in as every single emotion known to exist came rushing through my body. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I WAS FINE WITHOUT YOU! IF THIS IS THE PRICE I HAVE TO PAY FOR LOVING YOU THAN I DON'T WANT IT!" By now I was speaking out of pure anger not meaning a think I was saying, but never the less it hurt Sherlock more than I could ever imagine and I would later regret it all.

He stood there heartbroken never wanting to hurt me. "I…I'm sorry."

"SORRY ISN'T ENOUGH! JUST GO AWAY SHERLOCK!"

He hung his head and didn't say another word. I watched as he turned around and walked back to the car leaving me to grieve alone.

He sat there crying completely inconsolable. He felt guilty for everything that had happened it was all his fault and maybe I was right for wanting him out of my life after all he brought nothing but death and despair. He then began to think maybe it wasn't Brook who was hurting the people he loved, maybe it was him. He pulled out his cellphone his hands trembling. He had so much he wanted to say, but a few words were enough to tell him exactly how he felt. He addressed the text to Brook and wrote one short sentence.

**I hate you. -SH**


	10. The Greatest Ally

"_There is nothing certain in a man's life but that he must lose it."_

I stared at myself in the mirror barely recognizing the girl looking back at me. She was broken and weak not at all the person I once was. My face was starting to grow thin and my skin was pale having lost every bit of coloring that once flushed through it. I was simply existing and nothing more. I felt nothing. There was no love, no sadness, just complete nothingness. I then knew exactly how Sherlock felt after I left, but I didn't care I only wondered how many more lives would have to be taken before the game would end. I listened as someone drew near their footsteps weighing heavy on the cold wood floor. I caught a glance of John in the mirror and my heart stopped.

"Are you ready?"

Was anyone ever ready to bury their parents? I simply nodded wanting to just get it all over with. I had planned to leave right after their funeral to return to Scotland without telling Sherlock. He didn't need to know and if Brook wanted me as far as I was concerned he could have me. I was too tired to keep playing. John and I made the ride in his somewhat new Porsche in complete silence. Mary stayed home having been feeling quite ill probably catching the stomach bug I had come down with. I just stared at the open road my head filled with thoughts. They were racing out of control and I tried my best to sort them all out. I wanted my head to be clear I wanted to simply have some peace, but it was never that easy for us. Sherlock and I were one in the same completely consumed in thought and unable to break free. When I was younger my mother took me to every doctor known to man I was diagnosed as bipolar, depressed, having social anxiety and ADD, but I simply dismissed them all. It's just how I was and no one appreciated it except him. Now he was flooding my mind and I struggled to keep the thoughts of him at bay. I closed my eyes almost in tears and then I felt a hand graze against mine. I opened my eyes and looked at John who had the most sincere face I had ever seen on anyone.

"We're here." He got out and walked over to my side opening the door and helping me out like a proper gentlemen. He held out his hand and our fingers intertwined. It was purely platonic despite what people might have said. John was a good man he always wanted to help even if it meant submitting himself to gossip and rumors. He knew I just needed someone to hold my hand and he was more than happy to oblige me.

The ceremony was short and to the point. I didn't feel the need to drag it on any longer than it needed to be and I didn't think my heart could handle it. I watched as everyone walked away leaving John and me alone. I sniffled and reached into my pocket for something to wipe my nose with only to discover I had left my Kleenex in the car.

"Here let me." John pulled a Kleenex from his shirt pocket and handed it to me. "I know this might not be the time to ask this…"

"Then don't ask it." I retorted knowing exactly what he was going to ask me.

"I have to know. Do you think about him? About Sherlock?" I closed my eyes allowing the tears to flow freely. John placed his hand on my shoulder and began to apologize for being so forward. "I'm sorry I didn't…don't answer that."

"I think about him all the time and I hate it. I never get a moment to myself it's always him. That's why I told him not to come than again he knew better than to show up."

"It's just hard for me you know? I love you both and I don't like seeing you like this. He won't answer my texts, won't answer my calls, and I'm worried about him."

"We both are, but I'm not sure I'm so willing to help anymore." I looked at him with my bloodshot eyes. "I need to be alone for a moment."

He nodded and walked away leaving me there to grieve. As he walked back to the car he mumbled to himself about how stupid he was to bring up Sherlock at a time like this. He had let his poor worried mind get the best of him and regretted ever saying anything.

"I should have just let it go. Dammit John!" He then heard the snapping of a twig and quickly turned around. "Cassandra?" No one was there and he had no time to react to what would happen next. He began to shift slowly and then he felt a pair of strong muscular arms around him. "HEY! LET ME…" Than the sharp stabbing pain of a needle in his neck followed by a weakness through his body and then complete darkness.

"Johnnn…" A voice called to him as he slowly began to regain consciousness. "Wake up sunshine."

John opened his eyes trying to focus them. He went to get up, but his legs were unable to hold his weight. He looked around and finally met eyes with his captor. "NO...NO!" He shouted trying desperately to escape not knowing his fate.

Brook kneeled down beside him and began to stroke his face. "There there my pet I won't hurt you…yet." He grabbed John by the back of his jumper and hoisted him off of the floor flopping him down into a chair. "You look good John."

"Y…y…" John found himself unable to speak.

"Shhhhh don't talk. Give it some time to wear off." Brook gave John and hard swift slap on his back which caused him to cough uncontrollably. "Is that better?"

John took a loud deep breath sucking in as much air as he could. "You're supposed to be de..dead."

Brook let out a sinister laugh and patted John's shoulder. "So is Sherlock, but we all know better."

"I saw your body. I examined it myself. You stuck a pistol in your mouth you sick bastard."

"No need to curse. Richard Brook…"

"Is a fake. You made him up to try and make Sherlock look like a fraud."

"I am Richard Brook." John tilted his head in confusion. "Jim was my brother. My little brother. He was terminally ill had only a few months to live…or so he thought. He was always so gullible I could have had the doctor tell him he was fine, but what would be the fun in that? He wanted to kill himself by the time Sherlock got to him. It was for the best I never liked Jim."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It was never Moriarty you were after! It was me! You two thought you could get me and you failed miserably. I loved watching every second of the game! The game isn't over yet!"

"Please. I have a wife…"

"Yet you harbor feelings for Sherlock's little girlfriend."

"No. No I don't."

"Admit it John…" He leaned down and stared into John's deep brown eyes. "…you want to fuck her."

"NO! SHE'S JUST MY FRIEND!"

Brook sighed. "Fine. I can tell when you're telling the truth. I'll just have to find another way to ruin you and Sherlock's friendship. I thought I could use her as sort of a pawn, but the game is always changing. It makes me very angry when you two change the rules."

"We haven't done anything…" Just then the sounds of a fire engine could be heard off in the distance and Brook smiled. John's heart dropped knowing it had everything to do with him and all he could think of was Mary. "What have you done?"

"Go home John. The road is that way and if you tell anyone about this. I'll murder every last one of you." He then kicked John on the side of his chest cracking his ribs and knocking him off the chair for one final laugh and departed.

John laid there in pain every breath he took was pure agony. He watched the sky turn dark as it filled with smoke and he knew he had to get up. It took every ounce of energy he had to make his way out of the abandoned building towards a rather busy street allowing him to quickly catch a cab and head home. The smoke grew thicker as he got closer to his flat.

"I can't go any further they've got the entire street blocked off." The cab driver stated as police cars whizzed by them.

John quickly paid the cab driver and made his way to his flat as quickly as he could only to find it completely engulfed in flames. His stomach was at his feet and the heat from the flames was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He covered his face with his hand as he looked at his surroundings taking note of a much panicked Lestrade. He hobbled over to him and grabbed onto his jacket sleeve.

"Where's Mary?"

"I don't know. Sherlock ran in to get her."

John's breath left him the thought of losing his wife and best friend made him go mad. "MARY!" He screamed before trying to enter the burning building only to be held back by Lestrade's strong arm. By now he had all but forgotten about the pain he was in all he could think of were the two people he loved most. "SHERLOCK!"

Just then through the flames and the smoke a tall thin man appeared holding a rather slender woman both of them completely covered in ash. Sherlock handed Mary off to a waiting paramedic before collapsing onto the pavement. John was torn between going with his wife and staying with Sherlock. They both meant so much to him and then a woman appeared and knelt beside Sherlock and he knew everything would be alright. He quickly broke free from Lestrade and left to be at Mary's side.

I stared down at Sherlock's lifeless body and wiped the ash from his face waiting to see some sign of life in his eyes. Finally the glimmer of hope I had been waiting for came and he looked at me for a brief moment.

"You're such an idiot Sherlock Holmes. I don't know why I love you."

He smiled softly before slipping out of consciousness again and I was quickly pushed out of the way by the medical team which included a very fragile John Watson. They worked on him for a bit before loading him into the ambulance and taking him away. I looked at John as he winced in pain.

"What happened?" I asked tugging on his shirt.

"Nothing…just…" He lifted up his shirt and exposed the giant bruise that had begun to form over his ribcage. "I fell…down some stairs."

None of this made any sense and I knew if anyone was going to tell me the truth it would be him. "We were at the grave site and when I went back to find you, you weren't there." John didn't say a word he wouldn't even look at me. "Was it him?" I could see it in his eyes even though he refused to admit it. For the first time I began to become scared for my own life. I could usually brush off such nonsense I was a strong female capable of holding my own, but when it came to Richard Brook not even the strongest person could beat him at his own game. I helped John to the car and took him to the hospital where Sherlock and Mary had already been admitted.

I sat in the waiting room alone for a few minutes before I was joined by Lestrade who appeared to be very distraught.

"It's o.k. Greg." I said trying to comfort him.

"No it's really not." He hung his head and ran his hand across his pants pocket where he kept his cell. "He started texting me. Last night. Sherlock hasn't been responding to him and he's very angry."

"And you're scared because you think he's going to come after you." He nodded. "You have nothing to worry about. We have Sherlock Holmes on our side and there isn't a better ally than he. Brook can think he's winning but in reality he's making a very big mistake. I know Sherlock will protect and defend the ones he loves with every fiber of his being." The truth was I knew exactly what Brook wanted and I knew I'd have to give it to him. He wanted me and the only way to stop it all was to surrender myself to him.

"Oh um…here's Sherlock's phone. I know how attached he is to it and I didn't want anything to happen to it."

I smiled and took it from his shaking hand. I turned it on and began to type a text message addressed to Richard Brook.

**Give me one month with him and then we will end this.**

**CW**

I sat and waited impatiently. It seemed he was taking longer than usual to respond, but finally he did and it was exactly the reply I had anticipated.

**I can't wait.**

**RB**


	11. The Last Time

The month flew by faster than I had anticipated and as the day of Brook's and I's meeting arrived it was obvious to everyone something was bothering me. I stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped living. I was scared beyond belief something I hadn't felt before it was a crippling fear that completely wiped out every last ounce of energy I had. I heard the door open as John walked in carrying a bowl of hot porridge which filled the air with the scent of cinnamon. He sat down at the edge of the bed as he did every morning since he and Mary moved in.

"Now, Sherlock has sent me in here to get you to eat something. He says I'm not to leave this room until you've eaten all of this." He made me a spoonful and extended it out towards my mouth which I kept shut. "Come on Cass you've haven't eaten in 3 days." I turned over in the bed so my back was facing him a sure sign that I was in no mood to be treated like a child. "Fine. I'll just tell him you're not hungry. Again."

By now I was starting to get angry. I hated how everyone was treating me especially when I just wanted to be left alone. I turned back around and grabbed the bowl from his hands dumping its contents into a nearby trash bin before handing it back to him.

"Well that's one way of doing it." John stared at me for a moment with the saddest eyes before looking down and playing with the hot bowl in his hands. "I saw the text on Sherlock's phone. The one you sent to Brook."

I shook my head knowing I had erased the message almost as quickly as I had sent it. "If this is your way of getting me to talk it's working. I don't believe you though."

John sighed. "Give me one month with him and then we will end this."

"I deleted that message." He still wouldn't look me straight in the eyes. "Sherlock taught you how to retrieve deleted messages. I should have known. Did he see it?"

He shook his head and I breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought it might be something you should tell him yourself. Which you are of course right?"

I looked away bringing my knees to my chest. "I can't tell him. If I do he'll try to stop me and I can't let him do that. This game isn't fun anymore it has to stop and I'm the only one who can stop it."

"It doesn't have to be that way. We can all fight that sorry bastard together. After what he's done to me and my wife believe me…"

"No John. This is something I have to do on my own."

He reached over and squeezed my hand. "At least…make your last day with him a nice one. If you're going to just leave like you did last time leave him with something good to remember. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course. Only if you promise you'll take care of him."

"Always." He then released my hand and exited the room leaving me there to cry for a moment.

"Well?" Sherlock asked as John appeared beside him at the kitchen sink.

"She ate every bit of it."

"I don't get what her problem is. She's been acting so strange lately. The only thing that hasn't changed is our sexual relationship…don't say anything." John closed his mouth and swallowed his words. "What we need is a good case. That will get her up. Sadly the only crimes being committed these days are lost kittens and rabbits that glow in the dark."

"Sherlock." He turned around his eyes widened at the sight of me dressed and ready to go out. "I thought we could spend the day together."

"Oh…" He rolled his lips. "While I'd love to spend the day with you John, and Mary I have a lot of work to do."

"Actually I wanted it to be just you and me."

"Well if that's the case I'll grab my coat." He rushed off leaving John sitting there a little annoyed that his friend had basically implied that he rather disliked hanging out with his best friend and his wife. Sherlock walked back into the room wearing his black coat and blue scarf which brought out his eyes. He grabbed my hand something that John still got quite a kick out of. "Don't forget the jam when you go to the grocer's John. We've been out for a week."

We then bid them farewell and made our way out into the cold crisp London air. "Coffee and the park?" He smiled and nodded before pulling me along down the sidewalk throwing his arm around my shoulder. It felt good to be out alone with him it always did, but today was different. Today I wanted to make sure I remembered everything I could about Sherlock Holmes. Every whim, every shift of his eyes when his mood changed the color of his skin the smell of his hair. We quickly got our coffee and made our way to the large park across the street. As we crossed I took note of the black car parked out front its windows tinted so dark you couldn't see inside. My phone went off and I knew immediately who it was. I stopped dead in my tracks completely unable to move.

"CASS!" Sherlock yelled as he pulled me out of the street just as a bright red Nissan zoomed by. "Are you alright?" I felt myself swallow my tongue as I tried to speak wanting to tell him everything that was going on, but I couldn't. "Just calm down it's alright."

I took a few deep breaths and looked at the coffee stains on his white shirt. "I'm sorry I don't know what got into me. Your shirt is ruined."

"I wouldn't worry too much about the shirt I have plenty more." He helped me over to one of the benches and we sat down. "You have a lot on your mind Cass I can tell."

I didn't want to talk about it this isn't what I had planned. I reached into my pocket to see what kind of message Brook had left me and what I saw broke me.

**You get one hour.**

**RB**

I started to cry because it simply wasn't enough time. I felt Sherlock run his hand across my back stroking my long hair in an attempt to comfort me because asking me again what was wrong. "I just…" I tried to speak through my loud sobs. "I just love you is all."

Sherlock had never once told me he loved me and I accepted that knowing he just wasn't someone he liked to show his emotions. He didn't disappoint. "Oh right."

I just wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to know even though I already knew. "Why can't you just say it?"

"Because I don't like to be so weak."

"Can't you just do it for me?"

Sherlock sighed and shifted in his spot turning to me and leaning his head against mine. "I lo…"

Before he could finish I felt someone rip me away even though I tried my best to hold on to Sherlock's coat.

"You two are so cute together." Brook said scrunching his face as he handed me off to one of his cohorts.

"YOU SAID I HAD AN HOUR!"

"Yeah well I lied. I do it all the time." Sherlock lunged at Brook knocking him to the ground and all I could do was watch as the two men struggled with each other. In my heart I was rooting for Sherlock, but I knew what Brook was capable of. Brook stared at Sherlock with crazy eyes and smiled as he lifted his arm needle in hand. "Say goodnight Sherlock." He then thrusted the needle into his side and Sherlock winced in pain. Brook pushed Sherlock off of him as the drug began to take effect. "Say goodbye to your boyfriend Cass."

The man lifted me off the ground and carried me away. I fought the entire time my arm reached out wanting to just feel Sherlock's hand touch mine. He shoved me into the car and closed the door before speeding off leaving Sherlock there to suffer. I was still screaming as I pounded furiously on the window releasing every bit of emotion I had built up inside me these past few weeks.

"You won't be needing this." Brook ripped my phone from my hands and stared at the screen. "Aw a picture of you and Sherlock. How precious!" He then began to type a text to John.

**Sherlock and I had a fight. Come to the park.**

**CW**

John rushed through the flat trying to find his favorite jacket before he headed out to the grocer. He looked under the bed, in the closet, and then he heard his phone go off. Thinking it might be of some importance he rushed back into the living room finding his phone tucked away in the very jacket he had been looking for. He pulled it from his pocket and read the message.

"Mary I've got to run! I'll be back later!" He then bolted down the stairs and headed out the door. John didn't know what he was going to find. For all he knew I was standing in the park crying my eyes out and Sherlock had walked off to wander about until he cooled off. He stood at the other side of the street waiting to cross. He looked around nothing was out of the ordinary and there was no sign of me anywhere. He pulled his phone out to find out where I was and then his eyes focused on the tall slender figure that lay lifeless in the grass. "Sherlock." He raced across the street almost getting hit by a man on a Vespa.

Sherlock began to fade and everything around him looked like something you'd see in a funhouse mirror. He could barely make out John's voice as he felt his friends hand touch his chest. He opened his mouth "Br…" his tongue felt paralyzed as he desperately tried to get out what he needed to say. His heart was beating heavily and his body felt like it was burning from the inside out. He tried to keep his eyes open, but then…darkness found him.


	12. Second Chances

There Sherlock lay in an old abandoned factory the loud whirring of the fans echoing throughout its empty shell. He watched a shadow dance across the wall the sound of footsteps grew nearer. He shifted his head trying to take in his surroundings. His body felt heavy almost as if it was being weighed down. He turned up his eyes and fixated them on the chair that sat in front of him. There I was my mouth gagged tears flowing freely from my eyes my arms and feet bound to the chair. He tried to get up, but was unable to move. He watched as a man approached me from the side and pointed a gun to my temple. He wanted to scream as loud as he could, but nothing came out. The man pulled the trigger splattering Sherlock's face with blood and brain matter. Finally he found his voice and he began sobbing and screaming for me.

"Sherlock." He heard a muffled voice calling his name. "Sherlock."

He opened his eyes slowly the feeling of the cold floor hit his face. He could only moan softly as drool flowed from his mouth.

"Sherlock."

He finally moved his head and met John's worried eyes. "Ca…Ca…"

John gripped him under his arms and helped him the rest of the way out of the bed. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he helped the detective stand upright.

"Ca…"

"Cass?"

Sherlock nodded and signaled for John to hand him the water glass on the side table for his throat was too dry to allow him to speak. He took a few sips before inhaling deeply. "Where is she?"

John didn't answer him instead ignoring him and retreating into the kitchen. Sherlock followed him wanting a definite answer. He continued to ask and badger John until his friend finally gave in. "HE TOOK HER! BROOK TOOK HER! DON'T YOU REMEMBER ANYTHING?"

Sherlock closed his eyes trying to remember that day, but all he could remember was her spilling coffee onto his shirt which he was still wearing. "Did anyone see anything?"

"I've interviewed hundreds of people not that anyone would admit to anything. You know how it is these days everyone likes to keep their mouths shut."

"Why are you so jumpy?"

John was shocked at how Sherlock was acting almost as if he didn't even care. John turned to him and stared directly into his eyes. "Are you even worried Sherlock?"

"Of course I am, but what is worrying going to do for her? It's not going to help us find her."

"Just…be a little more human. For me. Just a little fucking bit."

Sherlock sighed and allowed himself to express how he was really feeling. "I'm frightened alright? I'm scared to death. I lo…oh it doesn't matter anyways. Where's your laptop?"

"That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about." John walked over to the desk and grabbed his laptop flipping it open.

Sherlock walked over and watched as my bloodied face came into view. Sherlock could feel the rage building up inside him as he watched me cry out for him. His stomach began to turn and Brook knelt down beside me knife in hand.

"What is he doing?"

Brook's face was different it was far angrier than it had ever been. "Sherlock I'm not a happy man right now. Something's come up…something unplanned." Brook turned his eyes and stared directly at them before standing up and slashing a huge gaping wound right across my face the eyesight in my left eye leaving me immediately.

"NOOOO!" Sherlock shouted almost breaking John's laptop in half. Then the screen went dark. "GOD!" He fell to his knees a single tear fell from his eye. He then jumped up and rushed out the door unexpectedly leaving John there to try and piece everything together. It was colder than yesterday and every breath Sherlock took was visible in the cold air. He rushed back to where we had last been standing before we headed over to the park. He recreated everything in his mind, where the car was parked, exactly where we were before we crossed the street and then the one clue that not even the smartest of men would find came to him. He remembered lying on the ground and watching the car pull away. As it did he noticed a very familiar looking dust covering its tires. It was rose in color and he knew immediately. He threw his eyes open just as a taxi carrying John approached him.

"I hate it when you do that!"

Sherlock climbed into the taxi and closed the door. "Scotland Yard."

The two of them bursts into Lestrade's office. He had been busy trying to pin point my exact location, but had been unsuccessful due to lack of evidence. The moment he saw Sherlock he knew he had figured it out. "Tell me where and when."

Sherlock sat down and the two men exchanged glances. "She's near Rosemount Gardens. It's in Glasgow."

"Scotland?"

"No Ireland. Of course Scotland you idiot." Sherlock snapped. "Sorry." Lestrade accepted his apology. "I went for a walk there once they have this hideous rose colored gravel I noticed the same color gravel dust on the car Brook was in that day at the park. If I remember correctly there was an abandoned factory nearby I visited it while I was there just to entertain myself. It's very discreet when I questioned people about it they didn't even seem to remember it was there it's been out of commission for years."

"Well what do we do?" Lestrade asked wanting to know what sort of plan Sherlock had in place.

"You gather up the best men you have. I'll lead you there. I don't want John coming."

John whipped his head around. "What?"

"It's too dangerous."

"So? That never stopped us before."

"You're not coming and that's the end of it. Do you hear me?"

"I'm not a child!"

"LISTEN TO ME!" The room went silent as Sherlock began to grow increasingly more annoyed by John's behavior. "I'M NOT GOING TO RISK LOSING YOU TOO! YOU GO BACK TO BAKER STREET AND STAY WITH MARY! ARE WE CLEAR?"

John could see that this was affecting Sherlock more than he could ever imagine and he reluctantly agreed to stay behind. The plan was then put into motion and John was sent back to wait it out, but that didn't mean he was going to.

Sherlock and Lestrade decided to ride together while Lestrade's men followed him. It was a 6 and a half hour drive and they weren't stopping for anything not even a restroom break. Sherlock felt in his gut that something wasn't right as he turned and looked at the caravan of people behind him.

"You're sure John is back at Baker Street?"

Lestrade assured him that one of his officers had personally driven John back to the flat. He revved up his engine and they took off. No one seemed to notice the bright red Porsche that was following at the end of the line.

Sherlock sat in the passenger seat his fingers pressed to his temples.

"He said something had come up and he was angry about it. I can't seem to figure out what. This is what he always intended to take Cassandra and kill her." He sat there racking his brain. "Why…why hasn't he killed her then? Something is keeping him from doing it."

"He's probably waiting for you."

Sherlock sighed and buried his face in his hands overwhelmed with everything that was going on. He had never been so stressed out in his entire life. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's just get there and end this." He then pulled out a gun and cocked it.

"Now Sherlock…what so you just go in and shoot him in the face is that it? That's how all of this ends."

"I don't have any choice!" His phone went off. It was a text from Brook.

**Don't even try to come in here armed. You don't want to piss me off any further.**

**RB**

Sherlock swallowed hard and handed the gun over to Lestrade who had one question to ask the detective.

"Why you?"

Sherlock bit his lip. "Why anyone?" He then began to tell Lestrade his theory. "There was a house fire years ago. A man and his wife were found burned beyond recognition the only survivor was a son."

Lestrade shifted in his seat. "I think I remember that. It was in your old neighborhood."

"Do you remember the last name of that family?"

"Hell it's been so long…" It then occurred to him and his eyes widened. "Jesus Christ."

"The Brook family Caroline and Mark the only survivor was their son Richard. It was deemed an accident the fire started by a shortage in an electrical outlet. I was the only one who knew better and I tried my hardest to get people to listen to the truth. Those people were tortured and then mutilated before the house was set on fire. Maybe he wants revenge for me snooping around in his business who knows. Now just shut up and drive."

The two men said not a single word the rest of the trip which seemed to take longer than anticipated. Finding the garden was one thing the factory was another. It was well hidden not exactly visible to the naked eye.

"It's around here I know it." Sherlock stated as he rolled down the window and looked for any sign of it. "STOP!" He shouted causing Lestrade to slam on the brakes. Sherlock got out and stared at the high walls which were covered in ivy. He raced around to the opposite side and found the fence open and ready for his arrival. The cars piled in to the abandoned parking lot. Sherlock watched a few ambulances pass by him and he glanced at Lestrade who shrugged his shoulders.

"It's a precautionary thing."

Sherlock's heart began to race as he approached the entrance to the building. He stared at the double doors a note had been written on them.

**The party's upstairs.**

**RB**

He opened the door and entered into the cold building. It was dark and Sherlock had a hard time finding the stairwell.

"Here let me help you!" Brook's voice shouted over the loud speaker as the lights flickered on. "Your girlfriend's a good kisser Sherlock. Now I can see what all the fuss is about."

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Sherlock screamed before noticing the stairwell in the distance. He quickly raced up the stairs and as he reached the top he was knocked out cold.

John sat in his car which was parked around the corner but close enough to where he could hear everything. It had been quite some time since Sherlock had entered the building and the fact that he hadn't yet come out worried him. He stepped out of his car and gently closed the door. He reached in his pocket and gripped the handle of his gun assuring him that it was still there. All he could do was listen and wait which was harder than he could ever have anticipated.

When Sherlock came to his head was throbbing and the room was spinning. He went to move his arms only to find them bound behind his back. He felt someone grab his coat and hoist him up into a kneeling position. He saw me sitting in the chair my head hung and for a moment he thought I was dead. "Cassandra…"

"Don't try to talk to her." Brook exclaimed as he entered the room a smug look on his face. "How are you feeling Sherlock?" He didn't reply which only made the situation worse. "Want to see what I've done to her beautiful face?" He then grabbed my hair and pulled it hard lifting my head up. Sherlock began to cry as his eyes glanced at my now battered and bloodied face. "I think one more cut should do the trick…" he pulled out his pocket knife and flashed it in front of Sherlock's face.

"Please…please…let it be me not her."

Brook just laughed as he slashed across my cheek sending me screaming at the top of my lungs.

"STOP IT!"

John could hear us screaming from outside and his army training immediately kicked in. He rushed passed everyone including Lestrade who had no time to react to his presence.

"JOHN NO!" He then disappeared behind the doors. "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! EVERYBODY STAND BY!"

Brook got great amusement out of Sherlock's pain. "You know…I had wanted to kill her, but I don't think I will. She has something of great value to me." He then took the knife and pointed it at my stomach. "Congratulations…daddy! YOU JUST COULDN'T HOLD OUT COULD YOU SHERLOCK?"

"He didn't know…" I managed to say through my tears and the pain.

"I can't kill her now. Killing her won't make you suffer enough, but I know something that will."

Just then the wall rattled slightly and Brook reached for his gun shooting one round into the wall. A loud thud was heard followed by John's agonizing cries for help.

"JOHN!" Sherlock screamed as he felt someone cut the ties from his wrists. He got up and raced to his friend who lay in a pool of blood on the stairwell. "LESTRADE!" That was the signal and his men began to storm the place only to find that Richard Brook had all but vanished.

Lestrade met Sherlock and John in the hallway. "I NEED A PARAMEDIC!" He shouted all the while trying to keep John calm.

John's face was beginning to turn pale as he continued to bleed out through the wound in his back.

"Sherlock…"

"Just stay quiet."

"Sherlock I can't…I can't feel my legs."

"Shhh you're going to be fine." The paramedics rushed to him and pushed Lestrade and Sherlock out of the way so they could tend to John and I's wounds.

Lestrade and Sherlock stood outside and watched as the paramedics removed John and me from the abandoned building. Sherlock ran to my side and grabbed my hand tightly.

"Go with John. He needs you more. I'll be fine. It's just an eye at least I can still see your face."

He wiped his nose on his jacket and kissed my forehead before saying what I had wanted to hear all these months. "I love you." He squeezed my hand one last time returning to John.

I couldn't help, but feel an immense amount of guilt for the way things had turned out. Brook was still out there and this would never be over until he was dead. I thought giving myself up would end it all, but instead it started a war. He would be back with a vengeance and nothing was going to stop him.

I lay in the hospital bed somewhat distraught over losing the sight in my left eye, but at least I could still see Sherlock and one day I'd be able to see our child's beautiful face. A knock came at the door and I turned to see who it was.

"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked as he walked in and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Never mind me. How's John?"

Sherlock lowered his head and choked on his words. "He…he's…the doctors' don't know if he'll be able to walk again. I tried to protect him and I let him down. I let you down."

"Stop that." I grabbed his face and pulled it up to look at me. "You did the best you could. No one is perfect. Not even Sherlock Holmes." I looked away remember how my face must look to him. "I probably look hideous right now."

"You're beautiful. You're perfect." I turned back and leaned my head against him. "Do you think I'll be a good father?"

I thought back to how I had answered him the first time he had asked me and how much it had affected him. "I think you'll be a great father. A little anal, but you'll do fine."

He reached down and grabbed my hand kissing it. "Here's to second chances."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading guys! I am going to write a sequel so don't worry I would never leave you wondering what will happen to John :)<strong>


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